


Midnight Machination

by solohux



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Advisor Armitage Hux, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, King Snoke, Knight Kylo Ren, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Plotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: King Snoke rules over the kingdom of Starkiller, aided by the dark and sinister knight known as Kylo Ren. The King's advisor, Armitage Hux, can barely get two words out of the knight and is frustrated by his wearing of a helmet all the time, though Hux refuses to be intimidated by Ren.When word of a coup begins to spread, Hux wonders who would dare try to overthrow the king. That throne should behisand no one elses--not that he has ever voiced his plans to, one day, take the crown for himself. But perhaps Kylo Ren can do something to help...
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	Midnight Machination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nordremo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nordremo/gifts).



> for Nordremo ([ their twitter](https://twitter.com/Nordremo?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor) / [their tumblr](http://nordremo.tumblr.com/)) ❤️
> 
> Thank you so much for your support, darling. It means so much to me. I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

From the moment that Armitage Hux meets King Snoke’s favoured Knight, he dislikes him _intensely._

Rumours about the infamous Kylo Ren fly around the land upon his arrival, tales of what he hides beneath his helmet and stories of how many he has slain in battle. The dark knight’s reputation precedes him wherever he goes as though ominous clouds follow him as he stalks around King Snoke’s castle silently and intimidatingly. The staff say that flowers die in his wake, that children cry, that his power is so strong that it somehow manifests into pouring rain outside of the palace.

Just rumour, of course. Hux knows that only sorcerers have the skills to make such things happen, and Kylo Ren is _no_ sorcerer. That much is clear from his brute-force intimidation tactics.

Hux sneers, looking down to where the Knight currently kneels before King Snoke, his helmeted head bowed. Some guess that he’s so heavily scarred from partaking in such carnages that he chooses to conceal himself—perhaps ashamed of his wounds or too arrogant to allow the common folk to gaze upon his physical trophies of war? With no flesh on show, it would be easy to assume that Ren is not entirely human. Perhaps he originates from the waters of the far kingdom of Naboo, giving him an amphibious quality to his skin. Or perhaps he hails from the forest kingdom of Kashyyk and is covered head-to-toe in thick, unruly body hair. Perhaps on the inside, Ren is nothing more than a _beast_ but there’s no denying his ghostly outer appearance.

Ren is unnaturally still on his knees, and Hux wonders how he hasn’t toppled over with the weight of his black, metal armour crushing him, particularly the two grand pauldrons that adorn his shoulders; spiked and sharp, they give Ren such an illusion of width and height that Hux mentally compares him to that of the tall barricades that surround Snoke’s palace: absolutely impenetrable.

Ren’s sword, too, looks something to behold. The Knight has been Snoke’s first commander for almost three seasons now, and Hux is yet to see the mighty blade be wielded in its owner’s gloved and gauntleted hands. Said to be made from the metals only found in the icy land of Illum, the silver blade of Ren’s sword glows red when catching the right light, drenched so many times in the blood of his enemies that it has stained the precious metal and given it its infamous crimson glare.

Hux glances around the throne room, taking in the air of unease amongst the servants and staff caused by Ren, and scowls in jealousy. He glances down at himself, imagining himself in the Knight’s victorious armour and not in his usual attire; cream slacks, a perfectly-tied jabot at the collar of his white shirt and a long, emerald tailcoat that wholly compliments his head of copper-coloured hair. He wishes to be powerful, to have both servants and knights alike attend to his every whim, to conquer in the name of _Hux._ Alas, Hux can only yearn, lurking behind Snoke’s throne like a predator in the shadows. The old King is almost 100 years old and is not planning on relinquishing his rule any time soon. 

The atmosphere remains unsettled in the throne room in Ren’s silent presence, one that Snoke doesn’t seem to notice—or if he does, he enjoys the quiet disorder that his chosen warrior causes amongst the staff, lapping up the obvious fear that they feel whenever he returns from conquering battlefield in King Snoke’s name.

“Advisor,” the old man speaks with a raspy tone to his voice, haggard from years of bellowing orders at his aides. Snoke lifts his hand from the armrest of his ornate throne, golden in colour and littered with rubies. He clicks his fingers, summoning Hux forward but the demeaning action of being _clicked at_ makes the advisor scrunch his nose up in disgust, though he returns to a respectful expression once he’s within the gaze of the one he’s sworn to serve.

“Yes, my King?” Hux steps forward, parchment and quill in hand. He gives a small bow, a miniscule one, barely showing the regard that is required of him to his king.

Snoke doesn’t so much as turn his head to look at Hux but remains smiling down upon Ren, clearly amused by the Knight’s dirtied and bloodied armour. “See to it that my champion knight gets a bed and a warm meal tonight, and anything else that he asks for.”

 _Advisor,_ Hux wants to huff, _I’m not your servant._ What sort of role does Snoke think that he holds within these grand castle walls? Escorting a filthy man to a room and serving him food is certainly not within the job description of being a king’s first advisor. Hux should be classed as royalty himself, being so high up in his majesty’s counsel but Snoke seemingly insists on belittling him with tasks that the plethora of servants, assistants and hirelings that work in the land of Starkiller.

But as always, Hux nods and agrees, “Of course, King Snoke. Sir Knight, please follow me.”

Ren rises to his feet and says nothing, he just stands and waits for Hux to pass him before following him exactly one step behind, almost catching the heels of Hux’s polished black boots as they walk along the grey-bricked corridors of Snoke’s castle in utter silence. It is not uncommon for the two men to be alone together, as Snoke seemingly enjoys delegating Ren’s supervision to his head advisor, but Ren and Hux have hardly spoken—not for Hux’s lack of trying.

“Another victory, Sir Knight,” Hux compliments, ascending the stone steps to where a free room awaits for Ren. “You have my regard. The Alazmec colonists of Mustafar have been resilient in our negotiations. Taking a blade to their throats is clearly the warning they needed in respect of listening to our demands.”

“ _Aggressive_ negotiation,” Ren comments, taking Hux by surprise, voice so deep and muffled through his helmet that Hux can barely hear him, but gets a hint of an accent that is only native to those from the affluent kingdom of Alderaan, one that Hux has never picked up on before since the two rarely speak.

“Is that what you call swinging that sword of yours until people give you what you want?”

“Hm.” Ren falls silent again. Hux isn’t too sure whether the Knight is amused or annoyed but he hasn’t reached for his sword to prove Hux wrong—or right—so perhaps he’s merely entertained by Hux’s attempt at insulting him. Oh, how Hux wishes he could see the face beneath the mask, to be able to read his expressions and react instead of having to _guess_ what Ren is feeling. It merely makes Hux feel frustrated by the Knight _constantly._

“Your room, Sir Knight,” Hux gestures to the first door along the western corridor of the fourth floor. Ren stops far too close to Hux, unaware of personal space, and the advisor can _smell_ the scent of death on his armour—it’s almost pleasant, it smells like _power._ “I’ll see what the chefs have to prepare for you and sent it up to you shortly. Is there anything else?”

Ren leers for a moment, leaning in towards Hux as though going to speak but he says nothing and, for the first time, Hux realises that he can see through the smoked visor of Ren’s helmet. He’s gazing straight into the Knight’s eyes. It’s difficult to gage their colour but they’re _human,_ so beautifully human. And across his right eye lies a heavy scar, thick and obtrusive, travelling out of Hux’s sight and down Ren’s face. 

“Ren—”

But the Knight steps away, disappearing inside of the private chambers without uttering a word but remains staring at Hux as the door closes. The _click_ of the lock turning echoes throughout the empty corridor but silence falls again thereafter. The advisor huffs and allows his shoulders to drop, finally free from that _beast’s_ intimidating gaze. So he _is_ human—or, at least, has the eyes of one. His true nature remains on Hux’s mind as he makes his way back down to the kitchens, imagining what lies beneath such heavy armour and why a man with such power and strength would choose to be a _dog_ controlled by a lazy and greedy king.

“Stop it,” Hux mutters to himself, adjusting his tailcoat, frustrated with himself for allowing a mere knight to take up space inside of his great mind.

His focus must remain on proving himself to be a worthy successor of the throne. With Snoke having no family or heirs to follow him, it makes logical sense to Hux that he would pass on his crown to someone close to him, someone whom he trusts with his life, someone who would bring Starkiller back to greatness. Hux passes a mirror on his way to the kitchens, catching his reflection in it, one where a golden crown sits upon his head and a long, red cape flows from his shoulders and pools around him on the floor. The future? Hux certainly hopes so.

**| . . . . . . |**

A shadow moves along the balconies of the royal castle, hopping over railings and ascending the wall to the unmistakable veranda that belongs to King Snoke. In the dead of night, he is invisible, ready to prey.

The sleeping king looks frail and old beneath his bedsheets, and even the long rapier on his pillow does not intimidate the intruder. This shall be quick but painful, a death that only a monster like Snoke is worthy of—

A confident step forward but a wrong one. The intruder snags the tail of Snoke’s beloved pet—a large, rat-like creature from the forests of Myrkr—and it unleashes a horrid screech.

The intruder returns to the shadows before the King’s eyes shoot open and awaken, fleeing from the veranda and out into the night. In his haste, he leaves behind his weapon, an axe from the inhospitable kingdom of Mandalore.

The King lives.

**| . . . . . . |**

“ _Order,_ please. Order.” Hux is at the head of the table, rolling his eyes as he tries to control the gossip and worry that has taken hold of the King’s court. The twelve men, women and others sit on either side of the long rectangular table, talking loudly with each other about the recent assassination attempt and ignoring their head advisor’s disgruntled voice. “Order!”

Hux’s yell calms them down. All of them settle and divert their attention from each other and give it wholly to Hux, who’s happy that the royal court are now acting as they should and not like blathering riffraff.

“ _Thank you,_ ” Hux remains standing as he addresses the King’s most trusted entourage. “Now. I’m _sure_ you’re all aware of what befell His Majesty last night.”

The ruckus strikes up again. Hux slams his hand down on the table.

“Enough! _Enough_ gossiping and enough tomfoolery. I won’t have rumour taking over this fine court. The King has informed me of the chain of events and I will be opening the floor to questions to put the record straight.”

A sea of hands shoot up. Hux points to Counsellor Datoo first.

“I heard that a Mandalorian axe was left behind by the attacker,” the old man says, worry in his eyes.

“That is correct,” Hux confirms.

“Then should we not be declaring war on Mandalore? Their people are clearly to blame for the attempt on our king’s life!”

“Mandalore is abandoned,” Hux continues, now proudly walking around the edge of the room, his nose held high. “A bleak and empty land left uninhabitable by war. Their people are all but spread across the land but none would be able to enter Starkiller without us knowing about it. I would have thought that a man of your supposed intellect would have known that, Datoo.”

Datoo scowls at Hux, but the head advisor ignores him and gives permission for young Counsellor Mitaka to speak.

“Thank you, sir,” Mitaka bows his head to Hux, grateful that he’s been allowed to speak amongst the experienced counsellors for once. “I heard that it was, _uh,_ possibly an inside job. Sir.”

Hux exhales slowly. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough evidence to accept or refute those claims at this moment in time.”

“But the attacker did not alert any of the palace guards, sir,” Mitaka continues, looking down to where his shaking hands rest in his lap. “Would that not imply that they were already within the grounds? Or perhaps that did not raise suspicion because the guards _knew_ them and thought they were friend, not foe?”

The court disperses into agreeing murmurs. Hux silently curses Mitaka and his cleverness.

“It remains a possibility. Just as it remains a possibility that one of King Snoke’s _many_ enemies have found a weak point in the castle’s armour and chose last night to strike.” Hux takes his place at the head of the meeting table again, placing both of his palms on the surface and leaning forward intimidatingly. “I will not have the inhabitants of this proud castle turned into nervous wrecks because of one assailant. Starkiller is stronger than this. We are people of power, and we will not become slaves to fear. The remaining kingdoms will bow to Starkiller.”

The court members erupt into applause, the younger ones standing up to clap their head advisor whilst the older members take a moment or two to follow suit but in the end, they all succumb to Hux and his intelligence.

“Uh, advisor?” A shy voice grabs Hux’s attention and he looks to his left, finding the castle’s messenger boy standing beside him, cap in hand as a show of respect.

“Arlo,” Hux greets.

“A message for you, sir.” The boy hands a piece of folded parchment to Hux.

He unfolds it carefully, expecting it to be a summons from the king but it isn’t, and Hux knows this as soon as he sees the elegant calligraphy etched in black ink, handwriting that he’s never seen before. Despite the castle being full of those with education and intellect ( _some of them anyway,_ Hux smirks), no person has mark as neat and as high-class as this.

‘ _Hux. Come to the stables at midnight. Alone. I will be waiting with important news that you need to hear. Until then, tell no one.’_

News? Stables? _Alone!_ Hux feels like screwing up the paper and pretending that he never received it, fearing a trap. If an attempt has been made on the king’s life and failed, could he be the next target?

“Who gave this to you, Arlo?”

“Gave what to you, sir?”

“The message.”

“What message?”

“The message—” Hux frowns, holding up the parchment that the boy has just handed to him, fearing for a moment that he’s lost his mind or that he’s speaking in his native Arakanisian tongue. “You have just delivered this note to me, have you not?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Arlo shakes his head. “But I didn’t. I’m here because you summoned me to take a message to the king regarding the outcome of this meeting.”

Hux stares at the boy, baffled. Perhaps Arlo is unwell, suffering from memory loss; surely that is the only explanation as to why he’s denying the fact that he’s just delivered Hux a note. He looks down to read the message again but finds that he isn’t holding anything, nor has anything dropped to the floor.

Or perhaps, Hux thinks, that it is _he_ who is so exhausted and under such burden that he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“My mistake, Arlo. Please inform the king that the meeting was a success and loyalty to him remains high and unbreakable.”

“Of course, sir.” The boy pops his cap back on his head and runs off, leaving Hux alone with his deep puzzlement. Around him, the counsellors engage in light conversation, enjoying the small buffet that has been laid out for them post-meeting but Hux doesn’t eat, his mind is much too perplexed to think of anything but who this mysterious informant is.

Only a midnight meeting at the stables will tell.

**| . . . . . . |**

The king, despite declaring that he is not worried about another attack, orders all of the castle’s guards to stand alert around his chambers, leaving the rest of the fort unguarded. It’s bad news for the rest of the staff but good news for Hux. He’s able to leave his own private chambers just before midnight and reach the stables without detection.

It’s a pleasant night, cloudless, one that could be appreciated for its beauty and calmness if Hux weren’t possible walking into a trap that could cost him his life. But he isn’t so dense. Hux is prepared: underneath his usual tunic and tailcoat hides a small shirt of mail, woven of many white-metal rings that no blade would be able to pierce. In his sleeve, his favoured blades lies in wait for blood, ready to strike at a mere flick of Hux’s wrist. A long, black and hooded cloak hides the advisor’s lithe frame and copper-coloured hair, making him unrecognisable to any that would spot him—not that there is anyone left on guard to witness his long journey from his chambers to the stables in the south courtyard of Starkiller’s castle.

With strong steps that don’t betray his apprehensiveness, Hux enters the large stable complex, happy to see that all of the horses are in the respective stalls for the night. He can’t help but gravitate towards the enclosure where his beloved horse rests, though she’s quick to her feet to trot over to Hux when he’s at her door and he lowers his hood so that his beloved horse knows that it’s him. Millicent is a well-groomed creature, though a little fat around her belly. She’s completely chestnut from hoof to head, save for a small white line that smooths up the centre of her head from her nose to between her small ears. Her mane and tail are almost identical colours to her coat, a warm brown colour that reminds Hux of the old bronze statues in the castle’s gardens.

“You haven’t seen any strangers wandering around in here, have you, Millicent?” Hux reaches into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out an apple for her, stroking down her nose. She huffs as though answering him. “Well, keep your eyes peeled, hm? You can never be too careful—”

Whilst Hux hears the footsteps behind him, it’s Millicent’s gaze locking onto someone behind him that gives Hux the signal that the informant has arrived. The advisor spins around, flicking his wrist and revealing his sharpened dagger, one that has tasted blood many a time before in the form of Hux’s old, scolding tutors. He swings, barely missing the informant as Millicent neighs in frustration behind him. Adrenaline pumps through Hux’s veins; he hasn’t had a fight like this in a long time. Usually, he prefers a surprise attack on his victims.

He’s too busy praising himself to notice the informant parry his dagger with a much bigger sword, knocking Hux’s weapon from his hand. Hux gasps, finally taking a moment to look up to identify his sparring assailant.

“ _Ren.”_ Hux glares, knitting his brows as he studies the intimidating Knight’s form. There’s no mistaking the unique helmet for anyone but Kylo Ren though he looks almost bare without his layers of heavy armour. Instead, he wears dark trousers and a soft, black jumper with a low neckline, his infamous red-glowing sword still held in his dominant hand.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“You’re the informant?” Hux can’t hide the surprise in his voice. Why would this _brute_ ask to meet him in secrecy when it’s been made clear that they do _not_ get along. Ren merely nods slowly but Hux is angry. “And yet, you attacked me.”

Ren scoffs, moving to pick up Hux’s fallen dagger from the floor, holding it by the blade-end to hand it back to its owner.

“I think it was you who swung at me first.”

“Oh.” Hux is overly-cautious when taking his dagger back from Ren, wary that the Knight has lured him here to kill him and take his place at Snoke’s side—but what good would that serve Ren? He’s already the king’s champion, already feared throughout the land; what more could he possibly want?

“I want you.”

Hux freezes, sliding his dagger back into its place in his sleeve but feels as though he may have to take it out again.

“Pardon?”

“You were wondering what I wanted,” Ren says, hands reaching up to his helmet. “And I want _you._ ”

In a beautifully slow drag, Hux watches as Ren pulls his helmet completely off his head, showing his face to the advisor for the first time.

With Hux only having met him three seasons ago in the autumn, he now realises that he’s only got a vague understanding of who Kylo Ren is. When Hux had received word from the king himself that the kingdom of Starkiller was being blessed with a new and powerful warrior, the champion of the Knights Of Ren, Hux had been less than impressed. Ren’s _reckless_ reputation had preceded him. Hux had heard tales of how the Master Of Ren was so incredibly strong that he had taken down legions of soldiers alone, that he had slaughter dragons and held his own against the strongest of sorcerers. Hux had supposed that such a reputation belonged to someone _of age,_ _experienced_ _._

 _And as for Ren’s face, well—Hux had doubted his humanity_ _and_ _his beauty, wondering whether the helmets hides scaly skin or a hideous scar._ After all, Snoke’s face held some incredibly nasty deformities so Hux thought it was entirely plausible for his favourite knight to be the same.

Hux had been wrong on almost every level.

As the Knight pulls his helmet away, waves of dark hair fall down and cascade onto his shoulders, falling perfectly despite having just pulled it free. Hux’s breath hitches; he’s astounded by how _young_ Ren is, how incredible deep his eyes are. His pale skin is dotted with moles and freckles, mapping out his face like his skin is the unexplored night sky, his beauty spots are the stars and Hux is the astronomer, wanting nothing more than to explore. Even the large scar that runs down Ren’s face is endearing, flowing from his cheek and down to his neck before disappearing onto his shoulder, hidden by his jumper.

Ren is stunning, _breath-taking._ He oozes power, strength and charm; Hux can think of nothing but touching his plush lips and letting him be taken apart with his soulful eyes—and his large, soft hands.

“Hux?”

Hux blinks hard, coming back to himself instead of hearing symphonies inside of his mind, finding that Ren is staring at him, blushing.

“I should tell you,” Ren says, and Hux wants to melt inside the deep timbre of his voice, “That I can read minds.”

“You— _excuse me?”_

“I have more power than people think. My status as a dark knight is _more_ than just my skills with a sword. I have a lot to tell you.”

Hux stares, wondering where to start. He runs his hands down his face. “ _Well_. Can you begin by telling me why the messenger boy didn’t recall giving me your note?”

Ren bites his lip, seemingly hesitant. No wonder he wears his helmet all the time, Hux thinks; his eyes betray everything. His dark prowess and sinister reputation are almost silenced by his handsomeness and his youthful looks—Hux stops, distracted.

“I’m a sorcerer. As well as a knight.”

“Oh, heavens above.”

“I made Arlo forget about the letter as soon as it was out of his hands. And the parchment was enchanted so it would disappear once you—and only you—had read it. I was born with it.”

“With what?”

“Magic.” Ren lifts his palm, muttering something under his breath before conjuring a thunderstorm in his palm. Miniscule clouds appear floating in his hand, and Hux watches as rain begins to fall and water _actually_ pools in the Knight’s palm. Small rumbles of thunder and a sudden flash follow at the time that Ren comes closer to Hux to show him, closing the gap between them.

“ _Oh, my,_ ” Hux stares, bewildered. “Astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like it. But, Ren, if you hold such power, why do you not showcase it? Kingdoms would _bow_ at your might.”

“Because,” Ren slams his palm shut, killing the storm in his hold but not in his eyes. Hux tilts his head, listening. “It’s by order of the king that I am only to use my power for him.”

“Snoke?”

“He’s jealous of my skill, my bloodline. My kin are strong, all of them are born with powers like mine. But I wanted more,” Ren clenches his fist and Hux hears the thunder again, wondering whether the storm still brews in Ren’s palm or whether the stars in the night sky are quaking at Ren’s anger. “I surpassed my Uncle’s teaching and wanted _more_ but he wouldn’t help me. So I sought out the Knights Of Ren. They helped me, somewhat, but King Snoke promised us infinite dark power if we were to help him conquer. He has outlived our deal.”

Pieces fall into place quickly for Hux. He sees darkness in Ren’s eyes and is crazy about it, wanting to fuel it and watch him triumph.

“I presume you were the assassin who failed to kill the king.”

“No,” Ren shakes his head. “It was Ap’lek, my most powerful knight. I gave him the order to murder the old man in his bed but he was too eager and alerted the king to his presence.”

“But the axe—”

“Ap’lek’s weapon of choice. A Mandalorian axe. Foolish boy.”

“I see.” Hux folds his arms. “So, what now, Ren? Continue with your plan? You kill Snoke, take the throne—”

“Do you not remember what I said?”

“When?”

“A moment ago. _I want you._ ”

Hux hadn’t forgotten, just misplaced it somewhere in his mind whilst trying to process everything that’s just been revealed to him in the last few minutes, but he dwells on it now.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Ren.”

The advisor can’t help but inhale sharply when Ren takes his hand, a touch that he hadn’t known that he needed until now. Ren’s hand is cold but so comforting as he holds Hux’s, moving to grasp his other when he knows that he isn’t going to be rejected.

“I think you do,” Ren says, and leans in. Hux holds his breath.

It’s overwhelming. Hux can’t help but freeze on the spot as Kylo begins kissing him, trying to push it further, but Hux soon melts into it and finds the rhythm that matches the knight’s eagerness. Kylo’s lips are incredibly soft and taste of sweet wine, a strong berry flavour that sends Hux’s already-dizzy mind into more of a frenzy. All he can think about is how he wants these lips to kiss every part of his body, to leave marks on him, marks that tell everyone that the undefeatable Kylo Ren is _his._ Hux can hardly concentrate on kissing back, consumed with lust.

“The throne will be yours,” Ren whispers, breaking the kiss for a moment but pressing their foreheads together. “You shall rule.”

“You’d…do that?”

“I’ve wanted you from the moment we first met. My powers have shown me visions of the two of us ruling Starkiller together, you from the throne and me on the battlefield, your enforcer.”

“From the moment—?” Hux bites his lip, supressing a surprised chuckle. “Ren. I thought you hated me.”

“ _No,_ ” Ren gives him a quick kiss before getting down on his knees, head bowed. Hux feels like a king already. “I had to keep quiet about my plans to overthrow Snoke. I feared that making my feelings known to you would risk my coup becoming known. I couldn’t risk your safety.”

Hux smiles, running his fingers through Ren’s hair, coaxing him to look up at him with those beautifully deep eyes. The Knight is even more handsome from this angle, looking up at Hux with such devotion and need to be loved that the advisor is down on his knees in front of Ren before he’s thought about how it’ll dirty his good trousers.

“You’re _incredible,_ Ren _,_ ” Hux says, placing his hands on Ren’s cheeks.

“Call me Kylo,” Ren says. “ _Ren_ is a title. I want you to have the honour to call me by my name.”

“ _Kylo._ ” Hux likes how the name sounds, imagining himself shouting it on a battlefield and whispering it in their chambers. “Supreme Enforcer Kylo Ren.”

Ren— _Kylo_ —smiles, showing his teeth in a laugh so beautiful and infectious that Hux feels his heart hammer wildly in his chest.

Yes, Hux thinks as he leans in to kiss Kylo again, their union shall make the surrounding kingdoms quake, none shall be exempt from the wrath and power of King Armitage Hux and his Supreme Enforcer.

Snoke, the old fool, will not escape death this time. Mutiny is next, then the _world._

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️
> 
> And I'm also on twitter now! Find me [@solohuxx](https://mobile.twitter.com/solohuxx) 💙


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